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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266942">Among Them</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorsdottir/pseuds/thorsdottir'>thorsdottir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>African Diasporic Mythology, American Gods - Neil Gaiman, Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>African Folklore, African-American Folklore, Alternate Universe - Gods &amp; Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, American History, Black Character(s), Declarations Of Love, Drama, Forbidden Love, Gay Sex, Historical, Historical Fantasy, Interracial Relationship, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mythology References, Not Canon Compliant, Original Fiction, Original Slash, Pansexual Character, Period-Typical Racism, Polyamory, References to Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore, Romance, Small Towns, Smut, Trickster Gods</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:02:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorsdottir/pseuds/thorsdottir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stories from Anansi and Hermes' time on Earth together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anansi/Hermes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nostalgia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is inspired by American Gods, but only inspired by. It's my own thing. So, these characters don't really tie into what Neil Gaiman did with these god-figures. But I love, love, love American Gods and I wanted to play with the concept of gods among men.</p>
<p>Cheers.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Anansi,” Hermes said, smirking to himself as he saw the Spider. It was a smirk more to save face than anything. It had been nearly 60 Earthly years since he last saw the Spider, and when Anansi stayed gone like that, it hurt. Anansi didn’t like being tied down. He could crawl from one place to another, with different lovers in his wake, and never seem to miss anyone in particular. Hermes generally only saw Anansi when he wanted something. Sometimes, that want was purely pleasure, and Hermes didn’t mind that so much. In the old days, he’d spend decades on end with the Spider. Once, they lived together in a cottage in a Northern American town, where there was a beach and little cottages by the bay. They hadn’t lived together like that, again. Hermes didn’t much like living down among the humans, anyway; that was more Anansi’s thing. But he liked it enough when it was with his friend. His Spider.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t look happy to see me,” Anansi said intuitively, his brown face scruffy and unshaven but as beautiful as ever. He smiled that cunning smile, teeth white and perfect, and Hermes wanted to curse him for always appearing in his human form, which Anansi knew made Hermes weak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I be happy, Spider?” Hermes replied playfully, always ready to play Anansi’s games. Anansi loved a good game. “What is it that you want, exactly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a visit,” Anansi said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Conjugal?” Hermes teased. Anansi perked a brow as if he had no idea what Hermes meant by that, and Hermes fought the blush that rushed to his cheeks. After all, he was the only god at the top of the mountain. Anansi didn’t get to fluster him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to borrow something,” Anansi said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Naturally,” Hermes muttered, the facade of coolness on his face melting away into a frustrated, if slightly annoyed side gaze. The Spider walked past Hermes straight into the City of the Gods without even waiting for an invitation. As if he knew to expect one, anyway. “Anansi…” Hermes groaned, following after him. “What is it that you want to borrow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look absolutely wonderful, by the way, old friend,” Anansi said casually. Hermes bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling or maybe to keep from verbally assaulting the smug bastard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My father will not be pleased to find you just wandering around,” Hermes muttered instead of reacting to the flattery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is ol’ Zeusy,” Anansi smirked as Hermes stepped in front of him. Their eyes locked. Hermes hated how absolutely brown Anansi’s eyes were. A mysterious, hypnotic brown that seemed so unreal. Gods sometimes had features like that. That looked like they shouldn’t exist. Hermes was used to it, for sure, but somehow Anansi’s eyes took his breath away every time he had the misfortune of falling into his gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not too pleased with you, as luck would have it,” Hermes replied evenly. Anansi, though, seemed to smile as if he knew that Hermes was as breathless as he felt. So, Hermes puffed up his chest and crossed his arms to remind the Spider who the god was, among the two of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have my father talk to him. No big deal,” Anansi said quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anansi,” Hermes’ voice boomed, and the Spider dropped his cheeky smile. “What is it that you want to borrow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Your helmet. May I have it?” Anansi said quickly, in that cunning way that let Hermes know he was lying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Here,” Hermes said, conjuring the helmet into his hands and placing it into Anansi’s. Anansi looked as if the idea of being outsmarted that easily had very well offended him. But he held the helmet as if nothing was wrong, and he looked directly into Hermes’ eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he said casually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, Spider. Now, go,” Hermes said coldly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hermes…” Anansi chuckled, but when Hermes didn’t budge, Anansi’s smile dropped. “... My love-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I’m not,” Hermes replied sternly, though his heart nearly jumped out of his chest at those words. Anansi hadn’t called him that since … America.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to borrow something else,” Anansi said, his demeanor changing… the facade at once falling away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve nothing else for you. Old friend,” Hermes said, as coolly as he could without letting himself feel too much. Anansi nodded once, then he put the helmet on, his brown eyes connecting with Hermes’ glimmering blues.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then, I’ll keep this,” he said, an ache in his voice that Hermes had never heard from him. And ache that pierced right through his godly heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep it…” Hermes nodded. He fixed his mouth to say more, but he couldn’t. Not for Anansi’s ego. Not for his own balm. And Anansi turned to walk out of the city, helmet on his head, his body steadfast and upright as always. Never bothered much by anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when Anansi had left the city and the portal closed, Hermes nearly broke down amongst all the consorts. Love was a different thing, for a god. Gods had many consorts and husbands and wives. They produced children whenever they wanted with whomever they wanted. Hermes had, himself, had many lovers over the millennia. But Anansi… There were none like Anansi. Nobody who confounded him quite as much, and enticed him quite as much. Nobody who made his heart ache quite as much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a mistake,” Aphrodite said. Hermes turned to look at her. “Letting him go, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anansi is the mistake, my love,” Hermes said evenly. Aphrodite was the most beautiful being Hermes had ever seen. Love personified, quite literally. But the confounding thing about Aphrodite was how much she encouraged his childish and unhealthy feelings for others. His obsession with human lovers. His relationships with other gods. Most of all, most confounding and disheartening of all, his relationship with the most cunning of all cunning Anansi. Perhaps it was because Aphrodite herself took many lovers, and wanted no one to deny love when it came. However it came. Perhaps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, my darling Hermes. Anansi is less mistake than any you’ve taken,” Aphrodite assured him, brushing dainty hand over his cheek and giving him a soft kiss. Hermes wasn’t amused and tried his best to tell her so through a glare, but she only smiled. “You may imagine I’m him, if it pleases you. Shall I try his form on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aphrodite, please,” Hermes sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll not see you suffer this way. You’ll leave me no choice but to have Eros retrieve him for you,” she said sternly. Hermes didn’t like the meddling, but it was amusing, most of the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anansi would just fuck him,” he said, chuckling to himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anansi is sick for you, you idiot,” she grinned. “Did you see his eyes? Absolutely sick. He’d hoped to bed you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I know. It’s all he hopes,” Hermes muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you hope for more?” she pushed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope for peace from the games he plays,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You love his games,” she insisted. Hermes pulled away from her, and taking steps into the city, planned to find someone to get lost in that wasn’t Aphrodite and wouldn’t just try to convince him to satisfy his unhealthy desires with the Spider. “He loves you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. And I him,” Hermes said, realizing Aphrodite was following him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then, go to him, you foolish boy,” she laughed. Hermes stopped, turning to her. “You want to hear it. You could fly away from me at light speed if you didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aphrodite… you can’t imagine how it hurts,” he started, his eyes narrowing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can,” she nodded, her lavender eyes staring into his. “And I can fix it. If you bring him to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t that. Dite, we could have 80 wonderful years together, if I wanted. I’ll bet he’d be ecstatic to have it. But he’d grow restless, and he’d tell me gods weren’t meant to love one god for eternity. That eternity is a long time. And he’d do something… awful to sabotage us, and leave me to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart,” Hermes said watching Aphrodite giggle. “Why does this amuse you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, obviously he’s correct. And honestly, your cyclical romance with him is the best thing for both of you. He lives a life of trickery and cunning, and you, Hermes, are his only moment of honesty and clarity. He needs that breathing room. And you… would not survive if your godly cock could only enter one being for eternity. How many did you fuck down there when you and Anansi were cohabitating?” she rationalized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not… a lot…” Hermes conceded. “But… Anansi-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah ah ah. Be truthful,” she commanded him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, you’re correct. It wasn’t his fault, completely. It was the… soulless humans,” Hermes sneered, shaking his head. “But Anansi did nothing to prevent their behavior from tearing us apart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anansi was afraid,” she rationalized. “They… hated his kind. They still do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anansi is a god. He can’t be harmed by humans,” Hermes scoffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Demigod. African demigod,” Aphrodite pointed out. It had been the 1960s, when they were forced to part. Hermes didn’t mean to downplay American racism, but he didn’t see how it could possibly apply to Anansi. “Give him… a chance to have you again. He’s not going to be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I gave him my helmet. The very helmet I wear daily,” Hermes said. “That’s his remembrance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you pigheaded fool,” she scoffed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give you what you insist I give him, and it will be better spent,” Hermes mused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No better spent,” she denied him. “Why you insist on this game… as though I am not the goddess of love…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Free me, then, my goddess, from his death grip. I can’t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t free you. I’ve told you before,” she sighed, and she placed a small kiss on his lips. “Go to him,” she whispered against his lips, and suddenly Hermes knew that he must. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn. You’re good,” he grumbled, and she smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll find he’s still on Olympus, just beyond the portal,” she said, walking away from Hermes before he could complain that she always did too much with her powers and was nothing short of a show off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he stepped through the portal, sure enough, to find Anansi sitting on a large rock, holding the helmet in his hands, a deep, mortal sadness on his face. He looked as though someone had stolen his glamour. He didn’t shine as bright and his colors seemed dull and Hermes was actually heartbroken to see him that way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My love,” Hermes said softly, standing just in front of him, the portal closing behind him. Anansi looked up, surprised to see his Hermes standing there. Not convinced it was real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t-- I was just going,” Anansi said, muttered, nothing like himself. “I just needed a moment to collect myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anansi,” Hermes said, concerned as he knelt in front of the man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” Anansi exhaled through shaky breaths, and tears danced in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No…” Hermes reassured him, hand against his beautiful brown face. “Never is too long for a god, Spider.” Anansi’s eyes met his, a soft glint in the brownest part of them, and Hermes smiled a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Praise Aphrodite,” Anansi said gently, the slightest smile on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you pray to her?” Hermes chuckled. Anansi’s eyes dropped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pray? I never pray,” he lied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, Spider. You can’t hold onto this sadness forever. I’ve come to you, just as you wanted,” he said with a chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t live down there without you,” Anansi whispered. “Please. Don’t make me beg. I’m ashamed.” Hermes’ smile dropped and he stared at the Spider, his hand still against his scruffy brown face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You won’t have to,” Hermes said softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Anansi said, tears dropping from his eyes. Hermes had never seen such honesty from his lover. He’d been honest before. In the moments after they’d made love, and they’d lay together and talk of many things. He’d been honest when he yelled at Hermes that he didn’t understand because he couldn’t understand what living down there was like for him. He was honest when he lamented about Nyame not letting him come home. But this was a different honestly. Vulnerability. Anansi had always been strong. Vulnerable… that was new. And it scared Hermes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kissed Anansi sweetly, savoring the feeling of his soft lips, lips he’d missed for decades, now. And he pulled Anansi into his arms, closing his eyes as the Spider dropped the helmet and engulfed him in his arms as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Anansi,” Hermes whispered gently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I you, Messenger,” Anansi said, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry I’m shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are both shit,” Hermes laughed, kissing at Anansi’s neck. “Shall I have you on this rock?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In view of Zeus?” Anansi objected, a little afraid of the King of the Gods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In view of Zeus and all the gods on Olympus,” Hermes insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you marry me on Earth and move back down there with me?” Anansi asked, smiling that cunning smile again. Hermes’ eyes searched Anansi’s face apologetically. “No? You bastard,” Anansi grumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ve changed. About both things,” Anansi said. “But forget I asked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll not live on Earth, again,” Hermes said. Anansi scoffed. “With you, maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you. Let’s just have the sex, and I’ll return to my Earthly exile,” Anansi grumbled. Hermes laughed, and Anansi slapped him, anger bubbling from within him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you hit me, Spider?” Hermes gasped, shocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re vile. I can’t believe I wasted honesty on you,” Anansi pushed Hermes back and stood from the rock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nan,” Hermes chuckled. Anansi turned into a spider and crawled swiftly to the other side of the rock. “Oh, that’s mature. Come on, Spider, you’ll be crushed! Darling… Darling?” Hermes climbed onto the rock, looking over the side of it for the Spider. “Nan, come back. Must you take Spider form whenever we disagree? I can’t speak Spider, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anansi shifted back into his human form, staring angrily at Hermes from beyond the rock. Hermes just looked at him, grinning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t understand the way I feel when I’m with you and it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t feel like myself,” Anansi said starkly. “Please, Hermes, stop laughing at me. I’m in pain, here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re being dramatic. You’re the one who abandoned me since 1961,” Hermes complained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was ‘62,” Anansi said, crossing his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’ve ached for you,” Hermes moaned. Anansi bit his lip, eyeing his old friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come to Earth with me,” he asked softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For how long?” Hermes hesitated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Six,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Months?” Hermes asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Years?” Anansi pleaded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, darling,” Hermes insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-- okay. Months,” Anansi relented. Hermes sighed, then nodded. “Yes? You’ll come?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only because I’m dying to make love to you and I know you won’t let me unless I agree,” Hermes said casually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would’ve. But you’ve already agreed, so let’s go,” Anansi said, grinning. “I have so much work for you to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, dear. Have I been tricked?” Hermes grinned, crossing his arms and gazing at his lover. This was the most exciting thing about Anansi. These games he played. This-- is why Hermes loved him, so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here and let me kiss you, My Love,” Anansi smirked, and Hermes was in front of him in a flash, and grasping his waist, and kissing him passionately and deeply before Anansi could even think of objecting. Anansi’s arms threw themselves around Hermes, and pushed through his golden hair, and he’d never felt more in love. He actually whimpered when Hermes pulled back a little to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the only one for me, Spider,” Hermes muttered, but Anansi shushed him and kissed him more. “Slow down--” Hermes moaned into Anansi’s mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sixty. Years,” Anansi growled against his lips, pulling his hair to make Hermes look into his eyes. “Sixty awful years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whose fault might that be, Nan?” Hermes asked breathlessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mine,” Anansi admitted, pecking his pinkish lips lovingly. “I was hurting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Hermes said softly. “They’re animals.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. They’re human,” Anansi whispered, pressing his lips into Hermes’. “You’re divine. And you left me. And I’m angry,” he said between kisses. “And I don’t forgive you, but I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had no choice. They’d kill you,” Hermes said into his kisses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only momentarily,” Anansi reminded him, pulling away from Hermes’ lips to look into his eyes. “I take responsibility. But you should never have left Earth without me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was-- I came back to an empty house,” Hermes said softly. Anansi nodded. “Why’d you-- I was coming back…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was scary… I’m not like you, I get scared,” Anansi said honestly. Which made Hermes kiss him again, loving and soft and gentle. “Your divine lips.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get scared, Spider. I just don’t fear,” Hermes said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You make no sense. C’mon. I live in New York, now,” Anansi chuckled, grinning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I forgiven?” Hermes grinned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Put your cock in me and let’s find out,” Anansi perked a brow.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hilton Head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>1958</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anansi hated the South.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t just for the obvious reasons. It was just not the kind of place he saw himself. He’d become enamored with California in a way that seemed unadvisable. South Carolina was small and uncivilized compared to Los Angeles, and Los Angeles became all he could talk about.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was their third town in as many years. The thing about Hilton Head, Anansi insisted, was that it was so far removed from the rest of the South that many of the ills of the land didn’t really reach. Of course, Anansi knew it wasn’t true, but he could spin a story so well that it usually seemed like it was true.</p>
<p>They’d settled in a little house near the beach. The thing was, all the Negros lived on the other side of the island or on other nearby islands that the white people didn’t like so much. Hermes didn’t like that, so much, for Anansi’s sake, but he had a way of convincing even Hermes that things made sense. It was a small island and a small town, so it didn’t take long for people to notice the strapping young white man who lived in a little house near the beach with some lanky colored man.</p>
<p>It was Anansi’s idea, or Hermes wouldn’t have agreed to it. It was Anansi’s idea that he was Hermes’s domestic and that Hermes had come from a wealthy family up in North Carolina and that Anansi had worked for him for years and he couldn’t bear to part with him. It was Anansi’s idea to tell such an ugly story for the neighbors who asked, but it was a smart story to tell. Because there were things about that story that made them okay. </p>
<p>People are suggestible. It was easy to convince maybe one or two that Negros were good people and that there was nothing strange about a white bachelor living with a Black bachelor just because they liked each other and liked living together. It was easy to convince a few people, but some attitudes are so deeply ingrained that even Anansi couldn’t spin a tale good enough to change the lot of them. It was something Anansi knew better than Hermes ever could, which is why Hermes just went along with it. </p>
<p>Hermes always just went along with it.</p>
<p>He went along with it when Anansi said moving to the Carolinas would be great because his people were there, telling his stories, keeping him strong. Hermes had much preferred Chicago. There was something about the winters there that could chill even a god to the bone. And Hermes felt at home among the crooks and thieves in a city built by crime. Everybody had an angle, in Chicago, and Hermes understood people with an angle. Down South, everything just moved slower. So slow, sometimes Hermes didn’t feel like things moved at all. He missed the fast moving, fast talking danger of the Second City more than anything.</p>
<p>But trouble was easily found in Chicago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was easy to not find trouble in Hilton Head. As long as you were just as slow as everything around you. As long as you said your “yes ma’ams” and “no ma’ams” and accepted pies from little old ladies who wanted you to take their daughters on dates, and as long as you kept Anansi from spinning too many webs in the wrong corners.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, Los Angeles was all the spider could talk about.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We could go,” he said. “Just to see what it’s about. It wouldn’t take much. Blink, and we’d be right back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it was true. Anansi could go where he pleased just by wanting to be there. But Hermes could never just say the word. If he had, they’d be gone from Hilton Head in a flash, no trace of them left behind. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s just that Los Angeles seemed like just the place to get in too much trouble too fast. Faster than Hermes would want to keep up with. Los Angeles was glamor, lights, attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anansi and Los Angeles was an even more dangerous combination than Anansi and Chicago. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Loving him was hard enough when nobody was looking. Here, he could be a live in cook and clean, and nobody would look twice. Here, they had the beach, and slow, quiet summer nights wrapped in nothing but each other, their skin sticky from the humidity and warm from the heat of their lovemaking. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe we stay just a while longer,” Hermes said, as though he hadn’t given it much thought. </p>
<p>But Anansi knew. Anansi always knew. He looked handsome, his dark curls slicked back and parted at the left, his face clean shaven. He always dressed like a man who knew his worth. His pants, crisp and creased like new money, his shoes shiny and polished. He eyed Hermes, his slender brown arms crossing over this chest the way he always did when he wasn’t happy.</p>
<p>“You don’t even like it here,” Anansi said, vulnerable for a moment, before he caught himself. Then he smiled. “Afraid I’ll get away from you out West?”</p>
<p>“I’m never afraid,” Hermes played along, but he moved towards Anansi, slow, which was not his pace, and he eased his arms around Anansi’s slim waist. There was a slight twitch in Anansi’s left eye, and he shifted his face away before Hermes could kiss him.</p>
<p>“I don’t like being angry with you,” Anansi said evenly. He would never just say how he felt directly. It was always in a roundabout way like this, as if he were ashamed to admit he ever felt anything at all other than abject glee.</p>
<p>“Then, don’t be,” Hermes replied, snared and roped in the way Anansi always could.</p>
<p>“You love this. Being in a position of power over me,” he rambled, glancing at Hermes indifferently. “You know that I won’t go if you don’t come.”</p>
<p>“What would you even do in California?” Hermes asked, his mind inventing all of the wild things his love would do, indeed, once unleashed on the Golden Coast. </p>
<p>“Whatever I goddamn please,” Anansi nearly growled. He hated the South. It wasn’t just for the obvious reasons, but the obvious reason sure didn’t help. And people were easily persuaded, but not before you did the persuading. He wasn’t sure if he could take the condescension much longer, nor could he stand being called another racial epithet by people who treated Hermes like he was made of gold. </p>
<p>“... Yes… yes, Anansi, but--” Hermes started.</p>
<p>“They hate you, too. They just don’t know they hate you,” Anansi started. “And that’s the sick thing about it. You-- once a god, always a god-- love the way people fall at your feet around here every time you bat your pretty blue eyes and flash your pearly white smile. Handsome white bachelor, that’s all they see. If only they knew.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t the praise I seek. I don’t care what these people think of me. I just think you have a tendency to be a bit rash,” Hermes said, letting Anansi’s words roll off of him without a second thought.</p>
<p>“Yes. As do you. That’s what I-- that’s why I--”</p>
<p>“I just think you should think about things before you run off and find trouble. This time,” Hermes rationalized.</p>
<p>“It wasn’t me who found trouble in Chicago. It’s them,” Anansi said, venom in his voice.</p>
<p>“So, you didn’t pull the wrong con and end up with a whole gang after us.”</p>
<p>“How dare you suggest I ‘con’ people. I simply convince them to see things my way, and usually it works in my favor,” he deflected. Hermes sighed, and he stole a kiss before the spider could object. “Chicago is full of gangsters. Los Angeles will not be Chicago.”</p>
<p>“You’re not naive. Don’t speak as if you are,” Hermes frowned. </p>
<p>“I will only wait here with you so long…” Anansi threatened, his eyes faltering as he said it. Hermes hated when he did that. He could spin anything to his favor, but it didn’t work as well on gods. On Hermes. Hermes could see it, where the humans couldn’t. It frustrated him, even though sometimes it worked. He didn’t have a response to it, so instead, he walked away from Anansi, out of their living room into their kitchen. Food was one of the better things about being down on Earth. Humans had come up with so many things, these days. Much of it in a box or a can. Hermes didn’t need to eat it, per se, but he did delight in it. There was a fresh chess pie from Mrs. Brennan, and a few bottles of Coke in the fridge. Hermes decided to cut himself a slice of the pie, his mind swirling with images of Anansi hobnobbing with the rich and famous in Hollywood, sweet talking his way into motion pictures, doing something hard headed and dangerous to blow their cover. Chicago coming back to haunt them…</p>
<p>“It’s not like I’d actually leave you,” Anansi said, leaning casually against the door frame of the kitchen. Hermes cut Anansi a slice of the pie.</p>
<p>“You have before,” he pointed out, getting out two plates; fast. The only time he could be fast was at home.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, this time’s different, ain’t it,” Anansi said, rolling his eyes and stepping into the kitchen. He opened the silverware drawer and took out two forks, handing one to Hermes.</p>
<p>“Could be. If we stay like this,” Hermes said. He took a bite of the pie; creamy and sweet, the crust homemade and buttery and light like a shortbread cookie. </p>
<p>“Me yo' man Negro man servant and you my handsome, single white boss?” Anansi scoffed.</p>
<p>“It was your idea, my love,” Hermes said, hating the words as they left Anansi’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Yeah, it was,” he muttered, shoveling some pie into his mouth. “.. This pie is good.”</p>
<p>“Mmm,” Hermes nodded.</p>
<p>“I was only suggesting we visit. We don’t gotta stay unless you like it,” Anansi said, reframing it to make it seem like it’d be Hermes’ choice. It wouldn’t be, of course. He’d follow Anansi to live in Antarctica, if the spider wanted. Hermes smiles a little.</p>
<p>“A vacation could be nice…”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>There was something about kissing Anansi that ignited Hermes. Lovers were a dime a dozen, and Hermes had had so many in his existence that he couldn’t even remember some of them. Anansi wasn’t just a lover. He’d known that the moment he met the crafty little spider, back when neither of their people knew about the new world. They were the same, in many ways. It was that, Hermes thought, that lured them together. Neither of them a stranger to bending reality to create their will. They were an accident, really. One of Anansi’s games, maybe. But kissing became fun, and then easily became more. </p>
<p>Kissing Anansi was electric, and every time Hermes kissed him, he <em>felt</em>, in a way he didn’t much feel with anyone else. In a way he craved when Anansi would leave. They’d been down among the people together before. It was easier before the people decided certain kinds of people didn’t belong with other kinds of people. But even still, Anansi never wanted it to be much more than a little fun. A little time together usually doing some little task Anansi’d invent for them to do, as an excuse to have Hermes to himself for a while. These little stints on Earth had resulted in a few fleeting cults among the people, worshipping them as some sort of divine pair for a while, which Anansi found amusing more than anything.</p>
<p>They’d never done Earth like this. </p>
<p>There was no plan. Anansi just needed his company. 'Needed' was the word Anansi used, and Hermes was weak to it. He didn’t know it was just Anansi spinning things to his favor as usual, but he also didn’t want to know. He liked thinking of it as Anansi needing him. Maybe he liked it because he felt a need for Anansi, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kissing Anansi was the only time slow was good. Slow, because he wanted to taste every second, to feel Anansi’s lips against his lips, tongue against his tongue. Slow, because he never wanted the moment to end; because it never had to end. Slow, because Anansi’s body always pressed against his, and when he got really into it, he’d feel himself engulfed in eight arms. The shapeshifting usually bothered him, but not then. Not when it was because Anansi wanted to feel so much of him that he needed more ways to touch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The only bad thing about kissing Anansi in Hilton Head, South Carolina was that people thought he shouldn’t. And people could interrupt. And sometimes, they did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Charming Lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: Use of a racial slur appears in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Peter! Oh, Peter!” Mrs. Brennan rapped on the front door, her smiling face peering through the windows beside the door nosily. They hadn’t been expecting guests, and it was near dinnertime, which was when most of the people on the island took to making their meals and being with their families. It was also when tourists flocked to the beaches, but that wasn’t so much of a big deal. Tourists didn’t much bother the locals, and mostly stayed near their resorts.</p><p>That is to say, Hermes and Anansi weren’t expecting to be interrupted. </p><p>And as Hermes had Anansi pushed against the wall in the front room of the house, kissing him passionately in hopes that they would continue their trist in the bedroom, Mrs. Brennan’s knocking was as unexpected as it was unwelcome.</p><p> </p><p>Hermes couldn’t be sure that the old woman caught a glimpse of what had been going on. He couldn’t be sure, but when he went to the door, straightening his shirt and fixing his hair-- Anansi lingering in the background and pretending to clean the living room-- the look on Mrs. Brennan’s face certainly suggested that she had.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Mrs. Brennan. What can I do you for?” Hermes said cheerfully, slipping effortlessly into Peter Hemingway, the wealthy single bachelor from a state above just looking for a way to spend his inheritance. Mrs. Brennan sputtered a moment, holding a covered dish in her hands, bright yellow and ceramic, no doubt filled with whatever she’d made for dinner that afternoon.</p><p>“Oh… hello, Peter,” she said, her eyes wide and staring up at Hermes like she’d gotten a fright. She was a pleasant enough woman, maybe in her 60s or 70s, a bit round from years of enjoying her own Southern cooking. Though aged, she was a rather pretty woman. Her eyes were a sky blue color and her hair, which she always wore styled neatly beneath a little fashionable hat, was a greying blonde. It looked as if she’d spent years coloring it, but had recently given up on the endeavor. She was nearly a foot shorter than Hermes in his human form, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in pep. She had lived, with her husband, just down the road in a little white house with blue shutters for most of her adult life, and had taken it upon herself to know everyone who lived in town. At times, Mrs. Brennan was a bit of a nuisance, but having her on your side was also an asset. After all, little old ladies like her had the bulk of the social sway in little Southern towns.</p><p>“Is that for me?” Hermes asked, a cheerful smile on his face as he reached out for the covered dish. Anansi watched from the living room, trying to hide his attentiveness from the old busybody. He wasn’t nervous that she’d seen them kissing. In fact, he was sure she had, and it didn’t bother him. She was the one who intruded, and after all, he had nothing to be ashamed of. </p><p>“Oh. Yes,” Mrs. Brennan started. “It’s just a bit of chicken n’ dumplins. I thought you might be hungry, being that you’re a-- a bachelor livin’ all alone.” She pushed the dish into Hermes’ hands, her neck craning to get a glimpse of Anansi as he wiped off the wooden coffee table casually. Hermes glanced in the direction she’d been looking, and he stepped into her line of sight. </p><p>“Well, I thank you for the kindness. I was actually going to head down to The Bridge to get a burger,” he said, referring to a local diner where he’d seen the residents frequent. It was White Only, so Hermes usually avoided it. If Anansi couldn’t go in, it wasn’t worth the effort. </p><p>“No, you need a real home cooked meal. None of that mess,” she said warmly, though Hermes could still see that look in her eye. He wavered a little. He didn’t know why. He could have simply confounded the woman, made her doubt even her own eyes with no more than a word. He could have simply let her believe what she wanted and returned to his home on Olympus. He could have done any number of things to rectify the situation, but instead he wavered. It was Anansi. Everything he did affected Anansi. Everything he did depended on Anansi. And he could not do something that would affect both of them without--</p><p>“Did you want to come in?” Hermes, as Peter, asked the woman. Anansi perked a brow, glancing over to his mate, frustrated with the gentle tone of his voice. Hermes was the most powerful being that woman would ever come into contact with, and yet he was behaving as if he were afraid of her. Of what she might think.</p><p>“Oh, no, darlin’. I was just gonna bring you some supper and invite you to the town hall meetin’ tomorrow at five,” she started, her sky blue eyes losing their judgment and defaulting to kindness.</p><p>“Town hall meeting?” Hermes asked. He’d never been to such a thing. Never much had a desire to involve himself so much in their affairs. </p><p>“I do hope you’ll come. We’re all concerned, well, about the … the wrong element moving to the island. You understand,” she started, her eyes widening as soon as the words left her lips. “Oh, not your boy! He’s so well mannered and just does his job. We don’t see any problems with him. It’s just…”</p><p>“Right,” Hermes said, eyes narrowing at her.</p><p>“It’s just that we want to keep the island a nice place,” she said. “And, well, you understand. We need as many of the men in town to speak as possible. Will you?”</p><p>“Well, madam, I don’t know that I’ll be… available… at that time,” Hermes let the words fall out of his mouth. Spineless. Gutless. He disgusted himself. He knew he disgusted Anansi. He didn’t want to look at him.</p><p>“Well… I hope you’ll try to make it, Peter,” she said gently, giving him a smile that felt empty, her eyes creeping back into the house to catch a glimpse of Anansi. He smirked at her, which caught her off guard enough that she gasped. </p><p>“Mr. Hemingway will be there, Mrs. Brennan. Don’t you worry,” Anansi assured her, a calm but cunning grin on his face. “You’ll be so surprised to see him there, since you’ll have forgotten coming here to ask him in the first place. We do thank you for the dumplings, though. You’re a lovely cook.”</p><p>“Oh… yes, uh… thank you…” she replied, perplexed, but she nodded at Hermes and started to walk away. “Goodbye, Peter.”</p><p>“Goodbye, Mrs. Brennan,” Hermes said, smirking a little as he closed the door. He glanced back at his love. Anansi shrugged. “You couldn’t resist.”</p><p>“She would’ve outed you as a nigger-loving homosexual,” he insisted. He took the covered dish from Hermes, pecking his lips. “I’ll put this in the fridge.”</p><p>“I’m not going to that hateful meeting,” Hermes followed Anansi into the kitchen. </p><p>“Yes. Yes, you are. How else will I know what the brainless have in store for my people?” Anansi opened the fridge, sliding the covered dish in between the other covered dishes they’d been given over the past few days. </p><p>“They’re not strictly your people,” Hermes said, arms sliding around Anansi from behind. Anansi relaxed into his frame, his head leaning back against Hermes’ shoulder.</p><p>“You still don’t understand…” he sighed. “How could you…”</p><p>“I do. I’ll go,” Hermes kissed Anansi’s ear. There was a gentleness to Anansi that most people never saw. The stories told of his cunning. Of his ways of weaving words like webs to catch and trip up his prey. They even told of his duplicitousness, or his narcissism, or the way he used his skill to get others to do his will. They didn’t tell of this version of him. They didn’t speak of how he carried burdens that 400 years of slavery built. How he felt tired or helpless, sometimes, as the people who still told his stories suffered under unjust laws and unfathomable evil in the land where they’d been forced to live. They didn’t tell stories of his love. How deeply he felt for them. How deeply he felt for everyone. They didn’t know the Anansi that Hermes loved. In some ways, he was proud of that fact. He got to see an Anansi that few others ever got to see. Maybe none. </p><p>“They’ve really ruined this world, haven’t they,” Anansi mentioned, as if it were an afterthought. As if he hadn’t meant to say it at all.</p><p>“Yes,” Hermes agreed. He couldn’t understand them, sometimes. Mostly it was simple things, like why they couldn’t eat cake for breakfast, but could eat muffins. But he really didn’t understand their obsession with skin color. In times of old, at least their prejudices sprang from borders or tribes; people who lived far away and were therefore easier to demonize. But he didn’t understand why people could live in one place, together, with one national origin, and still hate other people because their skin was darker. It was arbitrary. </p><p>Just as arbitrary as the fact that he was not allowed, really, to love another who shared his gender presentation. They had so many rules that ultimately seemed to break down to “because” and nothing more. They seemed to have it in their heads that their God was against it. Hermes, though, had never heard of such a thing. It wouldn’t even make sense for any god to be against it. It didn’t harm anyone, and frankly, most gods were more concerned with their own romantic conquests than those of the people on Earth. </p><p> </p><p>After a moment, Anansi sighed and pulled out of his arms. He followed as Anansi moved out of the kitchen and headed to the stairs. They’d gotten to the top of them before Anansi asked “Why are you following me, Hermes?”</p><p>“Are you upset?”</p><p>“Yes, but not at you,” Anansi said evenly, going into the small room at the side of the hall that had been designated as his. He didn’t need much actual space; he would just manipulate it to his liking, anyway. It was alway warm in Anansi’s room, but not an uncomfortable warm. Like the beach. It was Anansi’s favorite thing about Hilton Head, so he made it so he could live in it always. Warm, and even sunny, the floor made of soft, white sand that didn’t stick to your feet when you walked through it. </p><p>“At them,” Hermes inferred, sticking his toes into the sand as Anansi settled into his four-poster bed, his eyes staring up at the sky colored canopy, annoyed that Mrs. Brennan’s eyes were the same color. </p><p>“I can’t take it as lightly as you do,” Anansi said, disgust in his tone. “You don’t have to degrade yourself in front of them--”</p><p>“I have to pretend I’m not in love with you. I know that I can’t understand it from the perspective of someone with your skin, but… but as someone who shares your heart, I--”</p><p>“Hermes--” Anansi sighed, smiling at him. “It isn’t your fault. I don’t need you to explain. I-- I’m just ashamed that I’m angry. That I let them make me angry. They should be beneath me.”</p><p>“That’s their problem, love. They fear that they are,” </p><p>“Peter,” Anansi started, laying back against his bed. “What do you think she would have done if I let her remember you kissing me?”</p><p>“Nothing. Maybe gossip about it, after a while. But she’d feel embarrassed. Not sure she saw the right thing,” Hermes answered, moving to the bed and sitting at the foot of it, his eyes gazing at Anansi; handsome as all of his years, beautiful as all the stars in the night sky.</p><p>“Sometimes,” Anansi started, “I fantasize about them coming for me. Not cuz I’m some slick talkin’ Yankee negro that tricked em outta their last dime, though I could. They come for me because I’m a Black man in their world. A spot they wanna erase. I fantasize about it, and I feel so much joy at the thought that I could easily destroy them all.”</p><p>“We don’t have to stay in the South,” Hermes commented. “We don’t have to stay in America. We can go anywhere.”</p><p>“No. I get why I’m here, now. There’s always a reason. It’s whatever that meetin’ is about, tomorrow. I’m here because of that meetin’,” Anansi said, smirking to himself. “He’s many things, but he’s good at what he does.”</p><p>“You think that’s why he--”</p><p>“It ain’t why. It’s just part of why,” Anansi said. He liked the way his people talked. He liked them in the Caribbean, dialects rich and full of traces of home. He liked them in Africa, languages the white man didn’t understand, tongues full of connection to the ancestors. And he liked them here, full of contempt for the white man’s rules, detailed in their construction of their own rules. He was fluent in all the ways his people spoke. Hermes marveled at the ease in which he switched into it. How much he was all of them. </p><p>“Do you see them… when you look at me?” Hermes asked, though the question felt stupid. Anansi eyed him, brown eyes full of a storm of fury, face as calm as he could muster.</p><p>“You’re nothing like them,” he replied.</p><p>“They think I am,” </p><p>“They’re wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>It was never long before they were making love. </p><p>Hermes had stayed for hours by Anansi’s side as he brooded, angry with the burden of the world’s hatred on him. It was Anansi who initiated. Hermes wouldn’t, not with Anansi in that state, but it seemed to annoy Anansi that he’d made no effort to so much as cuddle. He sat up and kissed Hermes, angrily, at first, as if to demand the attention he was sure he was owed. But in kissing him, that anger cooled into quiet desperation, and he pulled Hermes between his legs. Undressing was Anansi’s favorite part. He loved unbuckling belts, unbuttoning pants. He loved pulling at shirts until they made themselves sparse. Human forms were so good. Their clothes, so fun to remove, like little pieces of wrapping paper concealing something wonderful.</p><p>And Hermes had a beautiful form, all muscle, slim, solid. Anansi’s hands couldn’t keep from exploring him. His chest, like art, his arms, big and comforting. And when he pulled off his underwear… Anyone who has ever made love to a god will tell you that they tend to be perfection. There is an expectation of a level of beauty that mere humans could never reach. It wasn’t just that Hermes was perfect. It’s that his cock was immaculate. If Anansi could have conjured a cock simply for his own pleasure; and he could’ve; it wouldn’t have measured up to Hermes. It wasn’t just that he was well endowed--</p><p>--Sometimes Anansi wondered if it was only so good because it’s exactly what Anansi wanted. If Hermes could… make it whatever Anansi wanted. </p><p>Anansi spread his brown thighs easily for Hermes. He loved Hermes; he did; but he also took joy in knowing that so many of them wanted Hermes for their own. That he was brown and in their way. He felt guilty for thinking it, but it also made him happy. Not that Anansi couldn’t also have anyone he wanted at any time. It was just a juvenile thought. The look on Mrs. Brennan’s face when she realized what they were to each other, the thought of that look on all of their faces… it pleased Anansi. He wanted to make them angry. </p><p>“Put it in,” he chanted to his love, pushing a hand into his beautiful golden hair.</p><p>“Aren’t you usually complaining that I’m too fast, Spider?” Hermes teased as he kissed down Anansi’s neck and lingered at his collar bone. Anansi rolled his eyes, but he let Hermes have his game, brushing the pads of his fingers against the Olympian’s scalp gently.</p><p>“Normally,” he replied coarsely, his breath hitching as Hermes left soft, warm kisses down his chest. “Hermes…” he complained on a breath, though shivers of pleasure surged through his corporeal form. </p><p>“Patience,” Hermes cooed against Anansi’s abs, his lips forming a smirk. But Anansi wasn’t patient. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it, and how he wanted it. He sat up on his elbows, watching as Hermes left kisses trailing from his belly button; it frustrated and delighted him. Hermes teased his nose into the hair just above Anansi’s cock, glancing up at him just to see the frustration on his face.</p><p>“Are you going to--” Anansi’s voice caught in his throat as Hermes placed a soft kiss on the shaft of his engorged cock. He watched, frustration melting into lust as Hermes’ tongue left a trail down to the tip, his lips closing around it deliciously. “Messenger--” Anansi hissed, his hand knitting into Hermes’ hair as his mouth engulfed his cock.</p><p>Hermes loved giving pleasure. Anansi, handsome and cunning, was always very direct about what he wanted, and most of the time, Hermes just went along with it. But he knew Anansi in a way that Anansi didn’t even know himself. He knew when Anansi would need him to take control, to give him more than he’d asked for. And he loved the soft moans Anansi would let out, holding back a little, too proud to let on that it was just what he needed.</p><p>Anansi’s eyes closed in pleasure, his body melting back against the bed, and Hermes bobbed his head intentionally on his dick, letting the length of the thing slip into his throat. Anansi’s fingers rubbed gently at his scalp, encouragingly, and Hermes found a good rhythm, tongue hugging his lover’s cock, tasting every inch of him.</p><p>“That’s good,” Anansi admitted breathlessly. Hermes pulled back just to give him a smirk, stroking his lover’s cock with his hand.</p><p>“I know what you need,” Hermes insisted, pleased with the way Anansi fought his own smile.</p><p>“Well, don’t stop,” he scolded Hermes playfully. Hermes kissed the tip, dragging his tongue down the length of his cock and teasing it over his balls. “Hermes,” Anansi grinned, watching as the messenger stroked his cock and took his balls into his mouth. A moan escaped him. “Okay… you win,” he hummed in pleasure, Hermes’ lustful eyes staring up at him. He watched as Hermes stopped a moment to suck his fingers and hissed in anticipation as he swirled them around his anus.</p><p>“Patience,” Hermes teased on a smirk. Anansi rolled frustrated eyes, but Hermes was quick, and before he could scold Hermes for teasing him, he felt the fingers pressing into him, two long fingers wet and warm and deliberate. He moaned loudly, despite himself, hungry to be penetrated. It was just a taste of what was to come, but he craved it, and his legs opened wider for it. He watched lustfully as Hermes pumped those fingers inside of him, and he let himself get lost in the pleasure as Hermes pushed up to kiss him. He moaned into his lover’s mouth, pulling him closer, holding his head so that his lips would stay right where they belonged.</p><p>“I want inside of you,” Hermes groaned into his mouth, and Anansi nodded, sliding his tongue against his to silence him. He didn’t need the talk. He needed Hermes’ cock, and he was tired of waiting for it.</p><p>Anansi kept a jar of petroleum jelly on his night table. The thing about human forms is that they were subject to human limitations, and Anansi had learned long ago that in order to receive a lover, he’d need something to help ease him in. He’d used many undesirable things over the centuries. Animal fats. Various oils and creams. Even spit. Now, at least, the humans had come up with things that made it easier and weren’t so unpleasant. It’s just that he hated the part where he had to stop his lover for a moment and get the jar of petroleum jelly, before he could get what he really wanted. </p><p>But he and Hermes had a rhythm, now, and before he could even think to get the jar, Hermes already had. He applied it haphazard and sloppy, both of them panting, hearts racing in anticipation of their lovemaking, but he got the slick stuff on his cock and before Anansi could miss his body too much, he was pressing the thick thing into him.</p><p>Anansi practically yelped as the rock hard god-cock stretched his hole, his hands clutching to Hermes’ shoulders, body trembling. It had been centuries, maybe millennia since the first time Anansi had this dick, but every time still felt like the first time. It wasn’t gods in general. Hermes hadn’t been the first god he’d ever made love to. This was something unique to Hermes. Like, as much as Anansi had him, there could never be enough of him. Like, if he had him at morning, noon, and before bed, each time would still feel brand new, and would still never be enough. Anansi craved him when they were apart, and reveled in him every time they were together like this. </p><p>Hermes rocked into him, slow and long and deep, and pressed him down into the mattress, Anansi’s nails scratching into the skin over his shoulder blades. Hermes pushed Anansi’s legs up, gripping just under his knees, and his hips worked his hard cock into Anansi, desperate and lustful and somehow still in complete control. It was scary how intentional he was, how he knew exactly how to drive moans out of Anansi, how he stroked so easily into him as if his own lust was only an afterthought. Anansi couldn’t control it as well as he could. Anansi came undone at the slightest touch, and the feeling of his love’s raw cock pumping roughly into his ass brought him to the brink in minutes. </p><p>“Hermes, Hermes, Hermes…” he chanted his name like a prayer, his hands searching the handsome god’s body in awe of him, in desperation for something to hold onto. In lieu of anything, he cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss, which didn’t do much to quench him.</p><p>He would climax soon. Too fast, which was always his complaint with Hermes. He always wanted more. Always was curious what could come next; what he could be missing. </p><p>So, as he felt the pleasure building in him, he shifted his hands to his lover’s waist to slow him.</p><p>“Wait--” he whimpered, and Hermes stopped for a moment, his eyes searching Anansi’s face.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he huffed out on a breath. Anansi nodded, and his eyes fluttered closed, his chest heaving as he fought against his climax.</p><p>“Need a minute,” he grunted out, stroking a hand down Hermes’ chest. Hermes kissed him softly, staring at his beautiful face, waiting for him to give the word to continue, though it was torturing him not to. </p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again. Anansi smirked a little, a soft chuckle escaping him.</p><p>“Yes,” he said, amused. “I was nearly there.”</p><p>“Isn’t that a good thing?” Hermes asked on a kiss, lips engulfing Anansi’s. He pumped in and out of him slowly, teasingly, and Anansi whimpered into his mouth. He clutched at Hermes’ waist, desperate to hold on to the moment longer than his body was allowing him to.</p><p>“Don’t make me cum yet,” Anansi whimpered into his lover’s mouth. Hermes chuckled, slowing his strokes to a halt, again.</p><p>“I don’t know if I can help it, my love,” he cooed.</p><p>“Wait-- pull out a moment,” Anansi pleaded.</p><p>“Spider,” Hermes complained, pushing up to look down at his quivering lover. Anansi couldn’t stand not being in control, sometimes. He stroked Hermes’ face gently, his brown eyes connecting with Hermes’, so the messenger sighed and eased his cock out of him slowly. Anansi whimpered as it left him, chewing at his bottom lip, his eyes fluttering closed. “Is that all I get?”</p><p>“I just need a minute,” he said.</p><p>“Alright…” Hermes grumbled, and he lay down next to Anansi on the bed, staring up at the sky blue canopy that, from the bed, seemed to resemble the sky at dusk from the beach. Hermes even thought he could see the evening star appearing in the distance. It was sort of hypnotic, along with the sound of Anansi’s heavy breathing. </p><p>“You’re too fast,” Anansi complained lightly, absently reaching out to Hermes, his hand landing on his lover’s bicep.</p><p>“I know,” Hermes muttered. It wasn’t that he was too fast, really. It was that Anansi wanted things to go how he wanted them to go, maybe even saw it as a competition on some level. But Hermes was used to him, and wouldn’t call him out on it. They had a rhythm, by now. When Anansi complained about something silly, Hermes simply let him. There was no use in arguing. Besides, when Anansi was ready, they’d be going at it again. </p><p>“Don’t lay so far away,” he said gently, his hand gripping Hermes’ bicep gently. Hermes shifted to his side, moving closer to Anansi, staring at the side of his face and waiting for him. Waiting for him to say what he wanted; to say what was next. “Hermes, you’re not upset with me, are you?”</p><p>“Aside from being incredibly horny and a little frustrated that I’m not getting to cum, I’m fine,” Hermes muttered. Anansi smirked, which was exactly what Hermes expected him to do, and then he pulled Hermes’ arms around him, settling against his chest.</p><p>“You’ll get to cum,” he cooed, his hand wrapping around Hermes’ cock teasingly. He stroked at it, planting a soft kiss against Hermes’ chest. “You want me to make you cum, my love?”</p><p>“I want…” Hermes hissed out, wrapping his hand around Anansi’s to stop him. “You know what I want.” Anansi chuckled darkly and he positioned himself on top of Hermes, sliding his hands up his chest and settling them at his pecs.</p><p>“Oh? What do you want. Tell me,” he demanded, straddling Hermes and grinding him playfully, cock against cock, eyes full of fire and lust.</p><p>“I want you to ride me,” Hermes grunted out lustfully, giving over control, like Anansi wanted. </p><p>“As you wish,” Anansi said, and he pushed up on his knees, positioning Hermes’ cock and sliding it inside of him. He pushed down on it until he’d taken the entire length inside, eyes fluttering closed from the pleasure. “Oooh, you’re so big, Messenger…” he cooed, sliding his ass up and down on Hermes’ cock, slowly until he found a nice rhythm. </p><p>Regaining control, he winded his hips on the cock, his hands pressing into Hermes’ chest for leverage. They gazed into each other’s eyes, the intimacy as pleasurable to Hermes as the sex, and he stroked his hands up Anansi’s back to encourage him, his hips bucking upwards to meet Anansi’s pace.</p><p>They panted and moaned lustfully, fucking fast and hard and losing themselves in pleasure until Anansi felt himself crashing down on top of Hermes, body tense from the torturous pleasure Hermes’ hips bucked into him. He was coming undone, moaning incessantly, his hands gripping hair and skin and muscle and anything to brace him. Hermes held him tightly, closely, and he let himself go fast, drilling up and into Anansi, letting himself enjoy the feeling freely.</p><p>“Fuck me,” Anansi whimpered, his face burying into Hermes’ neck. It wasn’t fair how easily Hermes won, every time they made love, but Anansi loved it. He loved the helpless feeling he got when Hermes drilled him, how he couldn’t control his body, how it meant he needed to trust Hermes completely to take care of him. It was difficult, and he always fought it, because Anansi never really trusted anyone. But Hermes…</p><p>Anansi’s orgasm hit him all at once, whimpers and moans escaping him, his body trembling, his cock erupting between them, drenching them in his cum. And as he came, Hermes slowed his strokes, and rubbed gently at his back, and left soft kisses against his ear. </p><p>“Beautiful,” he whispered, and Anansi had never loved anyone more. He whimpered as Hermes’ cock stroked in and out slowly, his large, gentle hands rubbing gently at his back. “I’m close, too.”</p><p>“Cum for me,” he cooed, kissing Hermes’ neck to encourage him to continue. It was too much, but he gripped a handful of Hermes’ hair as he felt Hermes pumping into him again, and he moaned low and sensual into his ear to help him along. And when Hermes came, he hissed at the sudden warmth of the cum inside of him, and he kissed Hermes’ lips to congratulate him.</p><p>Being in love was sublime. Anansi had been with many lovers, but he’d rarely loved the way he loved Hermes. Everything felt so much more intense because it was him. Everything. Love, he was pleased to discover, even made sex feel better.</p><p>“Thank you,” Anansi cooed, his arms wrapping around Hermes. Hermes ran a hand through his dark curls, and kissed him, again.</p><p>“I’m sorry…” he said softly. </p><p>“For what,” he chuckled, gazing into Hermes’ eyes.</p><p>“I should have stood up to her. I panicked,” the Messenger said, eyes faltering a little.</p><p>“... You were being cautious, which isn’t bad,” Anansi rationalized, his eyes narrowing. “I love you. Let’s not… worry about such things, tonight.” Hermes nodded.</p><p>“I love you, too. More,” he insisted. Anansi pecked his lips, and moved himself off of Hermes, settling beside him on the bed. “Anansi--”</p><p>“Yes, Messenger,” he sighed.</p><p>“I’m not attached… to this identity. If being here pains you--”</p><p>“It doesn’t. I love the beach. It’s peaceful,” </p><p>“As do I. But I can feel your pain, each time they-- It scares you, too. You pretend it doesn’t, but I can see that it does.”</p><p>“Oh, Hermes. They’re only human.”</p>
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